THE PRIZE: BOOK TWO - RETRIBUTION, page 30
“You wouldn’t believe the bluff, the old lady just pulled.”
“Don’t let her hear you call her the ‘old lady’, bucko. She’ll have your guts for garters.
“Oh… right. Didn’t mean any disrespect. Old habits.” Jack went on to relate what had happened, seeing Gwen’s eyebrows climb up her head.’
“Whew, that lady has one set of big brass balls.” She breathed.
“To hear her tell it, her husband has an even bigger set.”
“Jesus. I’d like to meet him someday.”
Ellis had to laugh when she opened and read Captain Lessco’s orders. They were typical of imperial orders and mostly boilerplate and ‘fill in the blanks’. He was tasked with a search and destroy mission to suppress smuggling and drug running along the border of the Empire. His orders and clearance were countersigned by the Director, but again nothing more than his electronic signature. For Ellis, it was a simple matter to substitute her new fake name to make them her own. Nowhere was the name of the Imperial Cruiser mentioned, so again anyone would assume her Corvette was the ship in question. With these they could at least get across Tellurian space, and bluff their way past any other imperial ships they encountered. Ellis sat back with a sigh. That was one headache taken care of. Getting across Thrakee space would be something else altogether. They had no way of knowing exactly where Tellurian space ended and Thrakee space began, so all they could really do was to keep on going until they ran into something and hopefully it wouldn’t be a Thrakee Battle Group.
Chapter Nineteen
Bluff and Con
Richard Penn eyed the next station in the chain with a certain degree of distaste. Without Class, his opportunity to sabotage the station was limited. A nice bomb in the fusion reactor would do the trick, as it had done with his old ship. Other than that, a Battle Group or a Heavy Cruiser would do, and he could stand off and blow this place to hell and gone.
“Your orders, Sir.” Lieutenant Hassar asked. Penn remained silent for a moment, playing the part of the brooding, aloof IMPSEC Colonel to a tee.
“I want the Marine detachment lined up in the docking bay in full battle armor in twenty minutes. That includes you, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it.” He quickly left the bridge as the pilot took them in to dock with the station.
Penn didn’t bother changing out of his fake uniform, he simply brushed himself off and slowly walked to the docking bay, hands behind his back, eyes straight ahead, shades covering his eyes. This gave the crewmen the impression he was in complete command of himself, and the situation around him. Having no need to interact with anyone. He only had to look at someone and his gaze had them shaking in their boots. Penn well knew the effect he had on people, even aliens, and used it for all it was worth. If he could get what he wanted with just a look, instead of a fully-fledged firefight, so much the better. As he entered the docking bay, the troopers came to immediate attention, most hardly daring to breath.
“All troopers present and accounted for, Sir!” Lieutenant Hassar announced, coming to attention and saluting. Penn walked slowly down the line of five troopers, stopping to look two of them up and down. There was nothing wrong with their battle armor or weapons, but just the act of stopping made them think there was. A tick at the corner of his mouth went unnoticed, and he killed a smile that attempted to pull at his lips. Any one of these troopers could literally rip him apart in their powered armor, yet just the appearance of him being an IMPSEC Colonel prevented them from moving a muscle. They might think it, and wish they could do it, but only in the privacy of their own minds and dreams.
“You will accompany me to the station commander’s office. I don’t expect any of this scum is brave enough to take any action against you, but be on your guard.”
He made it seem that any attack would be against them, not him, which was opposite to what a Var Officer would have told them. It was a subtle distinction he hoped wasn’t lost on them. It also gave them tacit permission to shoot and kill anyone who even looked like a threat. Penn turned, walked to the hatchway and stood there without speaking. It only took a second for Lieutenant Hassar to catch on, and he quickly moved to the control panel and cycled the hatch open.
Penn strode out with the Lieutenant behind him, and the troopers behind them as he marched across the bay. The landing crew quickly moved out of his way, including a heavyset individual who had probably come down to collect the landing fees. Ordinary people don’t argue with Imperial Marines in powered armor, even supposed tough scum like those on the station. As Penn marched out onto the main concourse, people simply moved out of his way, eyeing the group with downcast eyes full of hatred and fear. The word that an IMPSEC officer was coming was all over the station, and most wondered why he was here. Many of the most notorious and most wanted criminals had already departed the station for greener pastures elsewhere rather than face the possibility of being arrested, or shot out of hand. Penn kept his eyes to the front, fully aware of the looks, but his eyes missed nothing, including the ‘gunslinger’ walk, as it was known in law enforcement, of many of the inhabitants of the station. That peculiar walk meant they had hidden weapons, or were trying to conceal something in their belts or inside their jackets. This meant their weapon arms didn’t make a full swing as their other arms did, as they wanted to constantly reassure themselves that their weapon was there and ready to use, or keep something concealed against their side. Those he paid particular attention to, just in case one of them felt brave enough to pull a weapon and take a shot at him. None did and he marched up several levels to the station commander’s lavish quarters and office. Doors and hatches opened as if by magic and he had no need to slow his pace even once. Sadly, he couldn’t detect Ellis on the station, nor had she been there.
“You are?” He asked coming to a standstill in front of the desk. The Tall, pale Tellurian eyed him with suspicion.
“I’m station commander Var Usury, and you are?” Penn remained silent for a moment, dragging out the tension.
“It is usual for officers to stand in the presence of a senior officer, is it not?” He said at last. The Tellurian looked at him with an expression of suppressed fury, but stood.
“I’m not military…”
“No, you are one of Director Markoff’s pet Var bitches.”
“How dare you call me that?”
“Sergeant, if this person opens his mouth again without permission, shoot him.”
“Yes, sir.” The Sergeant’s voice rumbled from the suit speaker. Usury’s face paled.
“Now then, it has come to the attention of the Director that your quarterly transfer of funds to the imperial treasury has declined. I am here to find out why and correct it.”
“But… please let me speak.”
“Granted.” He answered, and began to pace back and forth across the office in slow measured steps, stopping every so often to take his shades off to look at some gaudy nick-knack or other.
“I’ve sent everything I can, but I can only squeeze this scum so hard before they all leave.”
“That is no concern of mine, or the Director’s. I will conduct an immediate audit of all transactions over the past solar cycle. Open your safe, now!” Penn knew he’d been skimming, it was just a matter of how much and where he was hiding it.
After a momentary hesitation, and a quick looked at the troopers he moved to a wall and punched a code into a concealed keypad. Penn raised an eyebrow as the whole wall slid to one side to reveal a massive safe. Clearly, this one was greedier than the last if he needed a safe that big to store his loot. Var Usury opened the safe and stood back, his expression running from anger to fear with a good helping of self-pity thrown in for good measure. The inside of the safe was even bigger than Penn had imagined, being something on the order of thirty foot square. The room was filled with floor to ceiling shelves, all packed with bags of gold credits.
“Your retirement fund?”
“Damn you, yes. I’ve worked my ass off for twenty two years in this hellhole.” he stuttered to a halt as Penn took his shades off and turned to look at him. One look into those bright yellow eyes and he looked away, seeing only death in them.
“I’m sure the Emperor will find you a nice safe retirement post after your willing donation to the Empire’s coffers.” The subtle hint that he might be in some forgotten grave was sufficient to demoralize the Var. Emperor Cytec wasn’t known for his generosity to Var he was displeased with.
“Sergeant. Arrange to have all this transferred to my ship.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Shall we go to your quarters and see what other donations you’d like to make to the Emperor?” In all, Penn netted several hundred million imperial gold credits, and left an impoverished Var crying into his silk hanky.
Penn’s only wish was that he could find a way to destroy the station. As a reward, he deposited two bags of gold credits on the Marine mess table without a word. One look and the troopers all came to attention and saluted. Greed is a wonderful motivator Penn thought as he left the Marine deck. Most grunts hated the Var officer class as much as he did, and from now on, he didn’t have to worry about having them at his back. Nobody wanted to kill the goose that laid the golden egg.
“Well, what do you know. We got our back pay.” Sergeant Brask murmured eyeing the piles of gold credit coins.
“They say all humans are stark raving mad. If that’s true, I like this human’s madness.” A trooper put in, bringing a round of laughter.
The next two stations the Marines had to get their hands dirty, as the commander attempted to hide his loot. This gave them the perfect excuse to rip the station apart, forcing the remaining residents to depart. After the last ship had left the dock, the one containing the late commander, he had the station blown up. That would send a message to the next one down the line that he meant business. As it turned out, the next one was empty, and they then had to chase down the fleeing courier ship to retrieve the loot. The one curious fact that struck Penn was, the stations were empty of slaves, human and otherwise. Without knowing why an Imperial auditor, supposedly, was going from station to station, the slavers had departed with their cargo to somewhere else, probably thinking he might take the slaves for himself and reap the profits. Either way, he couldn’t save all the slaves by himself, for one he didn’t have any way to transport them, nor could he send them home even if he did. Sadly, that would have to wait for another time.
Station number six was where Penn hit the jackpot. They entered the star system and immediately pinged the station as they vectored in, but surprisingly they didn’t get a response. It became evident why when they got within visual range.
“Holy Mother… half the station is blown out.” The pilot exclaimed.
“Carry on in, and try to dock with the station, pilot. Something strange is going on here.
The radiation counter told them the story. A nuke had exploded against the hull and taken out a large section. Even so, they managed to find an empty and undamaged docking bay on the opposite side, and donning armor, Penn and his escort went aboard. At least this side of the station still had air, and even as bad as it was it was still breathable. The moment Penn retracted his face plate he could immediately smell Ellis as he walked onto the main concourse. Even among all the other smells, some quite noxious, of food, spices, spilled drinks, rot, sweat and fear, it was still there. He wasn’t sure he detected her with his nose, or on a more psychic level. It brought up vivid images of her delightful body close to his, and the layer of warm air next to her soft skin, smelling of lilac and jasmine. Ellis didn’t need any concealing perfume or soap no matter what she’d been doing, working out, sleeping, or just sitting close to him. It was imprinted on his mind and soul like the smell of a mother to a child. She only had to stand close to him for him to know she was there and how she was feeling. He could even detect an undercurrent of fear, but not for herself. Her fear was for Jenny who he could also smell. From the video surveillance data they managed to find intact, it became clear that Ellis and company were no longer slaves, and he had to smile seeing the silver colored skin suit she was wearing, and the assorted weaponry. Now the question was, where were they? The database had given up a lot of information, and Penn soon had a pretty good picture of what had happened. Ellis had somehow managed to effect an escape for herself and all the other slaves on the ship, then taken over the ship, presumably killing the slaver crew. She had then proceeded to walk about the station at random, in what appeared to be a shopping trip but was in fact an intelligence-gathering mission. It hadn’t taken her long to find out about the Corvette and work out a way to get aboard and take over. He did admire her touch in getting the shipboard Marines and the station security people to shoot at each other while she had made her getaway. Now the question was, where did she think she was going? Penn had to laugh at the way Ellis had ensured they’d be able to escape the station without getting blown out of space. Who had actually tampered with the warhead wasn’t mentioned, only that it had exploded soon after she’d departed. Penn had to assume she was heading for the next station in the chain, as he couldn’t think of where else she might have gone. His only option was to go to the next station in the chain and see if she’d gone there. The one good thing was, he was catching up with her.
Penn ordered the pilot to take them to the next station, and this time the station was there, and answered their ‘ping’. This station turned out to be run by a young Var fop, all silk, lace, and a snotty attitude.
“Who are you, human?” He demanded, looking down his long bony nose, while his upper lip curled into a sneer. “And what is your authority?” Penn said nothing for a moment, considering the tabloid. The Var hadn’t called for any security, and sat there looking at him with contempt, as if he was waiting for something. It couldn’t be for armed men to help or defend him, not with six marines in full powered armor backing him, so what was it?
“I wish to review the contents of your safe, and account books.” The fop brushed imaginary lint from the sleeve of his velvet coat.
“You might wish for many things, human, but looking at the inside of my safe isn’t one of them.”
“You refuse?”
“I am the Emperor’s third cousin. Any attempt to look inside my safe, and I’ll have you shot, or worse.”
“Third cousin, you say? You must be one of his favorite cousins for you to end up in this shithole.” The Var paled.
“You dare!”
“I see you are right handed.”
“Right… right handed? What of it?” The Var’s hand on the desk curled back into a fist.
“Sergeant, do you have your vibro-knife with you?”
“Indeed I do, sir.” The Sergeant’s voice rumbled, and Penn heard the hiss as he withdrew the blade from his thigh scabbard.
“Good. I will need his right hand and one eye for the bio-lock.” The Var drew back in shock as the Sergeant came towards him.
“What… wait… you can’t do that!”
“The safe or your hand and eye.” The Var scrambled out of his seat and rushed over to the wall. As before, he punched in a code on a hidden keypad and the wall slide to the side. Just then, Penn’s comm beeped, and touching his earpiece, he opened the connection.
“Yes?”
“Sir, a small Imperial Battle Group just dropped out of jump space.”
“How many and what class?”
“One heavy Cruiser, one medium Cruiser, four Destroyers and five Corvettes, sir.” Now Penn knew why the Var was dragging his feet. Penn saw the sneer on the Var’s face and knew he was getting the same information.
“I don’t think you will be looking inside my safe now, human.”
“Lieutenant. Arrest this Var on suspicion of plotting against the Emperor and the Empire.”
“What!”
“The Director has it on good authority that several Var and senior officers out on the rim are plotting against him and the Emperor.” Well it was true to a degree. The upper-class Var were always plotting against the Director. “My job is to ferret them out and bring them to justice.” Just then, the Var’s hand shot inside his coat and before anyone could do anything, he pulled a small weapon out, placed it under his chin, and shot himself.
“What in the name of the Holy Mother…” The Lieutenant shouted.
“I take it you’ll still want his hand and eye, sir?” Sergeant Brask asked, looking around at Penn.
“Yes, I do.” It only took a few seconds to retrieve the items.
“Well, that was painless.” Penn sniffed.
“I didn’t feel a thing, sir.” Brask laughed in ghoulish humor.
“Who the best slicer on your team, Sergeant?”
“That would be, Trooper E’shee, sir.”
“Good, have him slice the late Var’s safe code.”
“Might take a bit of time, sir, depending on how long the encryption is.”
“No matter. Tell him to take his time. I don’t want the safe fusing itself shut.”
“Right sir. E’shee, get on it, and no mistakes.”
“On it, Sarge.” A large trooper at the back came forward, removing his helmet and armored gloves and went to work.
“See if you can get some people in here to clean this mess up, Lieutenant. I’m expecting visitors soon.”
“Yes, sir… but… is what you said true?”
“About what, that it being painless to remove the Var’s hand and eye?” Penn could hear swallowing sounds through the external mic.
“No, sir. About there being a plot against the Emperor?”
“There are always plots against the Emperor and the Director. In this case there appears to be some credence to the rumor, why else would he pull a single shot flechette weapon from under his coat and shoot himself?”
Penn moved to an adjacent room, and made himself comfortable in the late Var’s sitting room and sampled his stock of liquor. Some of it wasn’t bad. Penn settled on something that tasted like a half way decent whisky, and waited for the expected company. Looking around at the overly ornate room, Penn thought the décor and draperies more suited to a whorehouse. The colors, pictures, and statues wouldn’t look out of place in any upscale knocking shop, but like most, the late Var thought class began with a capital K. A slight sound brought Penn’s head around, and he tensed and prepared to go into combat mode. The sight of two scantily dressed human teenage boys entering with trays of food made him grit his teeth. He relaxed, and let out a sigh. Now he knew what the fop was into and it made his wish he taken him alive. It sickened him to no end and made his skin crawl knowing what these Tellurian Var thought was permissible. The sooner he brought this abomination of an Empire down the better it would be for all concerned. He beckoned the two young boys over.
